FLUNKOUT ARCANA: A Failed Wizard Quest

Every shopkeeper makes you pay upfront. For a member of the knightly estate, a shopkeeper will take their purchases on credit. Credit where it's due, Aimee d'Agevine doesn't forget her noblesse oblige, having purchased for the two of you a beer soup thick and greasy with dumplings and cheese curds, an entire ring of blood sausage, and a half of a cold capon that was no doubt the remnant of some other night's feast. You are entirely unsure of the moral implications of accepting a gift from someone you will most likely kill, but you didn't pay any attention to Morals 101. In fact, you didn't even show up.

In your defense, the professor was an utter bore of a man. One day, halfway through the term, you showed up to his class mostly out of curiosity. There were three people there, and you were one of them, and the old man was still up there, running through his lecture notes. Benefits of tenure, you suppose.

But you're not in the Academie anymore. You're in a tavern with dirt floors. Across from you with glittering eyes is a young woman of the highest rank, who thinks nothing of thumbing her nose up at the Oarsmen's Guild.

You have no idea how to handle it. Fortunately, Aimee seems bent on handling it for you.

"So, I realize that I haven't introduced myself yet (I do like to get ahead of myself), but I am Dame Aimee d'Agevine, yes, of the Agevine family, but don't feel the need to bow or scrape. Firstly," she raises a gloved finger. Your mystical senses recognize it as chamois. "It annoys me. Secondly, we're all on the selfsame enterprise, so let's not take airs with each other, eh?"

"An interesting wish. If only your fellows followed that."

"Hey, bad apples in every bunch. Let's eat, though. Aren't you hungry? Thirsty? What's one of you people doing so far down south anyway?"

As she is demolishing the table's spread with rapidity, you are forced to match her pace. In seconds the two of you have collaborated to reduce the capon into a handful of bones, some of which are cracked under your jaws in the frenzy. "Can't you see my stole? Education, what else?" You throw a snapped bone over your shoulder.

"Well, again, it is a bit far. There's plenty of masters up near Ultima Thule, isn't there?" You nod to her question. "See, I learned arms and whatnot from my castle master, not the… university of knighthood, which doesn't exist. I think personal tutorship is a much better educational path."

It's instinctive, and you probably can't help it, but you feel a strong, overriding urge to not listen to her anymore. As she blabbers on quite helpfully about what she considers to be the benefits and drawbacks of institutional education versus mentorship, you are more acutely aware that whatever she's talking about, it no longer holds any relevance to you. In your mind the winds blow more harshly. Mooring ropes-- a reflection of your youth spent near docks-- snap as a tower marked with a sign labeled 'Contemplation' tumbles to the ground.

"Do you think they'll trust any old Magister Anonymius from Ultima Thule?" you snap back. "Sorry. No chance. I'll be lucky to get a post overseeing dragon dung farming with those credentials."

"Oh, come on," she laughs. "It can't be that bad! There's always a way. For instance, us, right here. You're only a student, and here you are, hunting dragons! What's there to worry about? We'll be the victors, you can write off your debt--"

You narrow your eyes. "What debt?"

"Uh, student loan debt? University students, universally, are poor, ragged, and in essence overeducated beggars. What, you particularly rich?"

"No."

She sits back and makes a 'well, there you go' gesture with her hands. You mirror her-- she takes a drink, you take a drink. Your hand shakes.

Does she know?

Put together the facts-- she knows you're from the Academie in Fleur, and the Oarsmens Guild has a big presence there. She can smell the ozone from when you tazed the squire, and in fact can clearly see the charred doublet on him right now, so she can draw conclusions as to your martial capability.

Say she does. What are you going to do right now?

…that might work. You haven't noticed any defensive amulets on her. You focus again annd… yep, waves are clear, there's no telltale dissonant hum in the higher frequencies. You nervously look over to the knights. How fast can they run, and more importantly, is it faster than your top sprinting speed?

"Hey, what're you looking at me like that for?"

"Like what?" You're snapped out of your intense calculation.

"You've been staring at me like I killed your dog. What for?"

Crap
[X]- "I was wondering how easy you would be to knock off in a fight."
[X]- "Nothing! I was just thinking about you."
[X]- Run away. She's got you numbered. You don't want to find out.

A/N: Sorry for the late update, folks.